


Morsus

by HellBunny



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Dom/Sub Universe, AU: Teen, Alternate Universe- Dom/Sub, Alternate Universe- Teenagers, Angst, BDSMLock, Dom!John, Dom!Mycroft, Dom/Sub universe, Dom/sub, DominantJohn, John - Freeform, M/M, Mental Hospital, More tags to be added, Punishment, Rehab, Rehabilitation, Sex, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock is so angsty, Smut, SubmissiveSherlock, dark!Sherlock, dynamic, sub!Sherlock, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellBunny/pseuds/HellBunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NEW CHAPTERS EVERY SUNDAY<br/>********************************<br/>Sherlock is an unruly teenager unable to come to terms with the lack of love he feels from his family and others his age, and the fact he is a sub. Sherlock starts doing drugs and ignoring sleep and eating.<br/>In a world were everyone is either a dom, or a sub Sherlock feels like he has drawn the short straw. Despite hating all contact with anybody he deems unworthy he craves the attention and direction of a dominant, however having never had one before when Sherlock meets John he tries to push him away.<br/>What unfolds is a series of punishments and praises as Sherlock constantly tries to pull away from John, all the while wishing he was just a normal Submissive.<br/>Can Sherlock stop doing drugs and swap his lonesome life for one that involves John? Only you can find out by reading and maybe leaving nice comments idk whatever you feel would be best.</p><p>Basically a (probably too long) story featuring Sherlock being a little brat and John being an understanding Dom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The origins of a genius

**Author's Note:**

> Hello smut fans. Writer here... Hmm just some stuff, this is set in a dom/sub universe. I know some people don't like that, so just a warning. (For those of you that don't know, dom/sub universe is an AU were everyone is either a Dom, a Sub or a Switch. If you don't know what they are you should probably stop reading and go to bed:)))))))  
> Anyway, um name isn't going to be said just because all my racy smutty ideas are going to be poured out here and I don't want any awkward explanations to my friends and family.  
> So yeah, enjoy the story. Uploading a new chapter every Sunday, may upload more during the week so keep your eyes peeled
> 
> The first chapter is just going to be a little taster before I post anymore, next chapter will be out this Sunday.

Sherlock sat up, yawned and rubbed his eyes with a lazy hand. Only in these moments, the few seconds before he woke up and the few seconds before he went to sleep was when he could really be himself. He could really be childish. Which he was, deep down. Sure, he had to learn in his childhood to build up walls to protect himself from bullies. Many of which had been teachers and of course, parents.  
Sherlock had never been close with his parents. Never been close with anybody, really. Apart from when he was younger. Between being born and being six Sherlock and his older brother Mycroft had been as close as any normal brothers. Obviously, they both knew they weren't normal. They had tried school, tried to form attachments with other children, other people but it just wouldn't work. Mycroft, as the smarter sibling gave up trying to form attachments at an earlier age and waited for his brother to follow suit.  
"Don't be smart Sherlock" Mycroft would say "I'm the smart one, that's why I gave up a long time ago. We are just not designed to socialize with other people, Sherlock". But the young boy wouldn't listen. He carried on trying and trying until his sixth birthday. Everybody was invited. Nobody came, and that's when Sherlock first understood what his brother had been talking about the entire time.

  
One thing about being a Submissive living in a Dominants world is that that as a child, you don't realize the world you are growing up in. At first, before you get told about everything, before you realize your sexuality you are just normal children playing football, and basketball. You don't realize the duties your going to have to fulfill. Everything is so picturesque. It was, even for Sherlock.

  
The 17 year old shook his head to clear it a little before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and stepping onto the heated floor. The only blessing Sherlock could think of in his sad life was the wealth of his parents. Luckily for him, they had to look after him up until the age he was either claimed by a Dom, or was 18. Sherlock was hoping to get to 18 so he could leave. With the friends he had made in the police force (he had helped them on a few cases) he could ask them to put their name on the lease. Subs weren't allowed to buy property, but as soon as he was able to live by himself -however illegal it might be- he may be able to carry on with his life.

Unfortunately, he had only just turned 17. He had a while to go.

  
Sherlock went through his normal daytime tribulations. Showering, quickly fetching food from the kitchen that was usually cold because of his late mornings and avoiding his entire family.  
This day, however, he was not so lucky.

  
"Good Morning, Sherlock" came the slither of his brothers voice. Always slimy. Always bored. Always unimpressed. Usually by Sherlock"- or should I say afternoon?" 

Sherlock ignored his brother and tried to cross him on the stairs, only to be stopped by his brothers cane being thrust in front of him. Despite being in his early 20's, Mycroft was already starting to loose his hair and use a cane. He did, of course enjoy the fact his job high up in the government gave him stress lines, and a hair shortage. Mycroft had never been one for looks, and being so young in such an important job had disadvantages. People didn't take you seriously. People didn't understand just how smart he was until they dared reach past the bored glare of the elder Holmes brother. Mycroft had no reason for the cane, however. It made him look older. As a Dominant he was always trying to look more powerful. The cane just 'did it'.

  
Sherlock stopped, not making eye contact holding his cold breakfast in his hands.

  
"I haven't seen you in days, brother" Mycroft accused.

  
"I haven't wanted to see you, brother" Sherlock replied, using the name in a sarcastic tone. "Or, for that matter anybody. So if you would..." The teenager tried to move the cane out of his way with a spare hand but it wouldn't budge.

  
"Your eyes are bloodshot, have you been sleeping?" 

  
"I don't really see what it has to d-"

  
"Have you been sleeping, Sherlock?" Mycroft said in a harsher, more authoritative tone.

"No" came the quick, quiet reply.

 

"Why not?"

  
"I've been thinking a lot. Doing experiments..." Sherlock trailed off. He had, of course been lying on the sofa in the darkest corner of his big room with a needle hanging out of his arm. Eyes closed, a pillow wedged up behind his back to avoid him choking on his own vomit if -god forbid- he threw up. He had awoken two days after the injection of high quality heroin hungry, somehow tired and very irritable. 

  
To avoid showing any of his family his gaunt features he had stayed in his room for a further two days surviving on water from the tap of the sink in his en-suite and a box of 'Celebrations' he found under is bed. He didn't think his face still showed signs of being not quite himself. Come to think of it, in between the sleep deprivation, not eating for days on end and being under almost constant influence of heroin or marijuana he couldn't remember the last time he really had been himself.

  
"You really are, and always have been a bad liar, brother dear. You're doing it again aren't you. What was it last time? Cocaine? Heroin? Not to mention that ghastly plant you smoke, Sherlock. I mean the nicotine and the narcotics" Sherlock scoffed, cutting Mycroft off.

  
"Really Mycroft" Sherlock started in a bored, demeaning tone that he had learned from his brother and father all those years ago, before he had even learned to walk. "Your paranoid. I'm worried about you"

  
"I assure you the feeling is mutual" Mycroft retorted. Sherlock was about to walk the other way when he looked up to find his brothers eyes had softened. He looked sad, but only in his eyes. The rest of his features were stony, giving away nothing. "Before being a Sub, you are my brother, Sherlock. You are family. If you would change, if you could show you could change I would change the paperwork. File the necessities. I could change it for you, brother dear. I could change your life if only you would stop being so self indulgent. I could make you happy. I could make you dominant, on paper anyway" the cane loosened, and Sherlock dropped his plate to the floor leaving it to shatter and splatter on Mycrofts fitted trousers.

  
He lifted the cane out of his way easily, pushing it a little too strongly back into his brothers arms and running up the stairs to the comfort of his cold, dark room. Locking the door, he returned back to his sofa and cooked up.

Sherlock closed his eyes, disappointed with himself. It must have been a record, he had reached his room, prepared, cooked up and injected the heroin all within the space of 6 minutes. 

He drifted away into Never land, spinning up towards the ceiling and saw nothing except blurred, soft vision and the faint feeling that somebody was watching him. 

 

******************

Mycroft sighed, and sat on his brothers bed. This wasn't the first time he had been sad here staring at exactly the same sight. Sherlock never remembered. He was always too high when he eventually noticed Mycroft sat there idly watching him for it to even make an impact on his conscious mind. Mainly because most of his mind was no longer conscious when he was in this state. 

Mycroft had sat here a few days before hand staring into his brothers vacant eyes. He had no idea what he must have been thinking about. Nothing, the elder Holmes brother suspected. Absolutely nothing. He understood. Of course he understood. He too lived that life. Of isolation, over thinking, processing information at a ridiculous rate but Mycroft was a Dom. Mycroft could use his power over others to vent his frustration. His many Subs helped him just as much as he helped them.

Obviously Sherlock could use a Dom to vent his frustrations but after the _many_ incidents in Sherlocks childhood it was unlikely he would be able to form attachments with anybody -especially those who wish to take control of his life- very easily.   

Mycroft had to find somebody who could look after his baby brother. He knew that if Sherlock only gave it a chance he would enjoy being looked after more than anything else. It was just convincing him to try it that would be the problem. As much as the idiot teenager wanted it, he would hate being a dominant. Even if it was just on paper. It would mean he never got to feel what it was like to be a submissive. To be completely dependent on somebody else. 

Mycroft would find somebody that could do that for Sherlock. 

With that thought, he stood up, placing a pillow delicately behind Sherlock so that he didn't choke on his own vomit. He checked the drug addicts pulse and eyes. No signs an overdose was imminent, but of course the brother could keep watch with the small cameras he had placed directly above the couch he knew the boy used.

Mycroft left the room without a glance backwards. 

 


	2. Meeting Doctor Watson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets Sherlock for the first time after talking to Mycroft about how to best deal with the drug addict 17 year old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, not too sure about spelling and stuff on this chapter. I wrote it a little bit buzzed so not too sure how this is going to come out.   
> Also, if you want to read more the new chapter of 'Summus' should be out today if I get around to it. Its also a Sherlock fic, and yes im shamefully self promoting.   
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Tips and ideas would be awesome.

Mycroft spent exactly two weeks looking around for a dominant that would fit Sherlock. He had exactly seven refusals, after he told them Sherlocks current predicament. He had exactly four that he refused, and one that lived in China. Unfortunately, considering otherwise he would have been very almost perfect.

  
During this time, Sherlock had been falling ever further into a drug induced psychosis. Mycroft hadn't seen him since he had left his room. He had heard him a few times. Just bumps and bangs from above him as he sat in his office. He checked the cameras and very almost went and grabbed the boy as he saw him shooting up for the second time that day. He must have woken up groggy and decided he wanted another buzz.

  
On the day he was about to ask help from somebody else which -believe me- he really didn't want to do he found John Watson.

  
John was a doctor. An army doctor. His medical training would mean he understood Sherlocks drug problem. An army doctor. It would mean he was strict with Sherlock, but after meeting with the doctor for the first time Mycroft could tell he was caring. Even after explaining to John about the drugs, about the behavioral problems he seemed more concerned rather than disgusted.

  
Other doms Mycroft had talked to had decided not to look after Sherlock as soon as the elder Holmes brother had mentioned anything to do with drugs. A few had flat out refused to talk to him. But this John Watson... He was promising.

  
The only problem was Sherlocks sheer refusal to accept anything but days spent in solitude. Sherlock would have to choose to submit to the doctor, it wouldn't just happen. He would have to accept John, and let him in. Learn hes not a threat.

  
When Mycroft stood up from the table in a small cafe that smelt like wood, and home he handed John his card, and promised he would be in touch within the week.  
Mycroft left with a handshake, a nod of the head and a smile. John stayed in a cafe for another half an hour before he decided he was ready to go back to his lonely bedsit.

  
After hearing all that was to be heard about this Sherlock character, John felt a strange amount of protection over the 17 year old. He wanted to get him off drugs, for one. Even if none of the other things followed, he would want to be a friend to the boy. Help him get through what he could.

  
When John got home he sat on his single bed, and after a while fell down to his pillow and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  
******************************

  
Mycroft called on a Monday, three days after the two had originally spoken. It was quicker than John had expected, but he was pleased to know Mycroft had thought of a way they could both try and break Sherlocks shell.

  
He was told to go outside, into the apparently waiting black car and he would be driven to a meeting point for them to discuss what to do with Sherlock. John did just that, and an hour and a half later he was sat opposite Mycroft Holmes in a big office, with an antique wooden desk between them.

  
Mycroft sat and watched John for a while, sizing him up, deducing him. John stared back at Mycroft silently, looking, but seeing no where near as much as the elder Holmes brother saw in him. Eventually, Mycroft spoke.

  
"Dr Watson, before we begin I need to talk about a pressing matter concerning Sherlock"

  
John smiled before speaking "Of course?"

  
"My brother is -as you know- in a delicate state at the moment. Though finding Sherlock a dominant that could look after him and take control would no doubt help him overcome his troubles it could also go the other way, so to speak. If you did anything to upset Sherlock that wasnt necisarry... If you left him, if you hurt him unjustly, I would have to put in certain ramifications that your throat definitely wouldn't enjoy" Mycroft spoke in a matter of fact voice. "My brother does not deserve more trouble that he already has to deal with. I want you to know that before you two even meet"

  
John understood were the pale man was coming from. He really did, he was worried about his brother and wanted to make sure no more harm came to him. John really did understand, but he wasn't a monster, and the sooner Mycroft realized that the sooner he could get onto trying to help Sherlock

 

"I assure you, Mycroft. I don't intend to hurt Sherlock at all. I want to help him as much as you do."

  
"Good" Mycroft answered with a stiff smile. "On that note... I think the best approach with Sherlock is one of a doctor, which you are. Don't act stupid, correct him if hes wrong, which is rare. Show him your not an idiot and he wont treat you like one, Dr Watson. Obviously if you have any questions you cant talk to him about then ask me. I want updates on how hes doing. Just... try and connect with him. It'll be hard, John. Please try your hardest" Mycroft pleaded, features still as stony as ever.

  
"I will" the doctor promised "How am I going to meet him?"

  
"I'm going to introduce you. If i'm right, which I usually am Sherlocks almost running out of the 10 grams of heroin he bought two weeks ago. He'll come out of his room when he needs to go and see his dealer and ill introduce you then".

  
John grimaced as he thought about the teenager consuming 10 grams of heroin in almost two weeks. "Right, okay" he confirmed.

  
"Tomorrow night at 8:00 pm you will come to my residence to meet Sherlock. I will introduce you as Dr Watson and we will go from there.

  
No pressure then, the small voice in Johns mind replied. His mouth, however formed a straight line and he nodded in agreement. Both men stood up to shake hands and John left the office, walking back to his car and driving home to think about how he was going to try and convince Sherlock to let him in.

  
****************************

  
John found himself standing at the Holmes mansion at 7:45 pm the following day. He was a little nervous as to how the encounter would go but he was also excited to meet Sherlock for the first time.

  
The door was opened by a butler, and he was taken into another office. It was as well decorated as the last one he had been in. Maybe even more so. Five minutes later Mycroft walked into the office and explained Sherlock was about to come downstairs. John stood, and followed the elder Holmes brother out into the hallway. They waited at the bottom of the stairs.

  
Ten minutes went by without hearing a sound, but just as John was about to suggest going upstairs to try and talk to him he heard the faint sound of a door opening and closing. The door was locked, and footsteps proceeded towards the staircase.

  
Sherlock walked round the corner. His hair was a matted mess of black curls and he was pale. He had blotches on his face and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired, and gaunt.

  
The teenager caught Johns eyes for a split second before flicking back to his brother. He was still stood at the top of the stairs, where he had stopped upon seeing his Mycroft.

  
"What do you want?" the teenager asked in a relaxed tone, but you could see he was on edge.

  
"Sherlock, this is Doctor Watson" Mycroft said, motioning towards John.

  
In response, Sherlock just rolled his eyes and carried on down the stairs pushing past both John and his brother.

  
"I don't need a doctor to check me over, Mycroft. I'm fine" The sentence was final, and left no room for argument. Mycroft was only sad. The fact he hadn't deduced John was a dom that was interested in him meant his mind was crumbling away. He would of been able to realize that a year ago.

  
"Maybe you do" John chimed in, smiling at Sherlock with a little warmth. The teenager looked at John with an almost disgusted expression and open his mouth to reply but before he could John had crossed the room and was pulling down his eye to have a look at them.

  
"Your lacking in iron" he said, getting a small doctors torch out of his pocket and flicking it between Sherlocks eyes. "Your anemic" he stated, letting go of the boys face and putting the torch back in his pocket. "You're also in withdrawal, and ridiculously underweight. Your itching both because you want drugs and because your tired. Both of those will also take account for the irritability. You're emaciated. Quite badly, I would suggest the hospital to anybody half as bad as you but I know you wont listen to me"

  
Sherlock looked the doctor up and down. He was good, quite good. Obviously a dom. He should have realized that sooner. Mycroft must have decided to try and find him one.

Outwardly, he hated the idea but a small voice in his head whined for somebody to take care of him.

  
"I'm going out" Sherlock simply replied, speaking to Mycroft but keeping his eyes trained on John in the careful way a cat would if they didn't know you.   
The teenager broke eye contact and walked out the door and down the road looking for his next fix.   
Both Sherlock and John hoped this wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.


	3. Bloody Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is found in a bloody heap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO basically I uploaded this chapter to the wrong fic on sunday and only just realised sorry

Sherlock walked slowly through London. It was dark... very dark, but he didn't really register it.

  
He was high. He knew that much. Unable to remember what he had taken he resigned himself to sitting on the cold wet grass and waiting for the narcotic to wear off.

He shut his eyes in an attempt to help, but his drug addled mind wondered to John Watson, the doctor.

  
It was obvious what he had been introduced to the doctor for after he had really considered it. It wasn't for a checkup. Mycroft was trying to find him a dom.   
Sherlock smiled at the idea and used a shaky, heavy arm to wipe away the drool that was running down his chin.

  
What had it been Sherlock tried to remember. He recalled a bad taste. Like... hairspray. Bitter. Now he had the faint taste of copper in his mouth.   
Again, he lifted his arm to wipe away more liquid from his chin, but as he pulled it away his arm was red. He was bleeding. Quite profusely, as well if the blood loss was anything to go by.

  
_This would be so much easier if I wasn't high._  

  
_But you are high, aren't you. As always. You used to have hope, Sherlock. Now your lying on the soaking wet grass in some fucking seedy part of London without a clue where you are or how to get home lying in your own blood._

  
Stray tears escaped his eyes, and he wiped them away surprised at himself before he realized it was more blood rolling down from his head.

  
His eyes closed slightly. He hand fell to his side and he was out like a light. No second chances. This was it. He could barely fathom a coherent thought at yet somehow he still knew that this was the end for the 'has-been' Sherlock Holmes. 

  
He heard his name being called before everything went completely black for the second time.

  
****************************************

  
John looked forward to seeing Sherlock again. He had been thinking about him for the last two days, and when Mycroft called him he expected to be asked to come round and speak to the unruly teenager again. Instead, he was told Sherlock had been missing since John had left and he was asked to help in the search.

  
Of course, John happily agreed and he was dropped of an our later in some run down part of London by a shiny black car which quickly sped away as soon as he had closed the back door.

  
John rubbed his hands over his face and started walking down the street. Why would Sherlock come here? Mycroft had told him this was a usual place for Sherlock to visit. There were a lot of dealers here, and also a lot of passed out addicts that Sherlock could steal from.

  
It took John all of half an hour to see the outline of the pale boy on some grass. He looked like he was shivering, but as John got closer he saw something a lot more concerning.   
Sherlock was sprawled out on the grass, needle still in arm. He was completely covered in blood, it was dripping down his face into his mouth and dribbling down his chin onto his uncovered pale chest. The boy was shivering because of the cold despite the fact he was unconscious. This was good, it meant he was still alive.

  
John phoned Mycrofts number and sat the phone down on the ground before rushing to Sherlock to try and help him. He found the source of the wound. It was right on the top of his head and the blood had started clotting.

  
It looked like somebody had hit him. Hard.

  
Within 10 minutes Mycroft and his men, including a private ambulance where at the scene and Sherlock had been stabilized and was being loaded into the ambulance.   
He was awake, but his eyes were lidded. His vision constantly directed at John, although the doctor didn't know if this was because his vision was impaired due to the lack of blood, or maybe the drugs.

  
"Thank you, John" Mycroft said from behind him, making him jump a little.

  
"No problem" John replied with a slight smile.

  
"Listen, John... I understand if after what you have seen you don't want to further our agreement. I would be happy to make the contract null and void at your request" the eldest Holmes brother said, a plastic mask of an emotionless man molded on his face.

  
"What..? No! Of course not..." John stumbled with his words. "After what I saw today, it only makes me want to further our agreement, Mr. Holmes" John assured him. "I want to make sure hes okay". 

  
"Well that's fantastic, John" Mycroft answered with a smile. "In fact, I was wondering if -when Sherlock gets out of the hospital which will be in a few days- you would like him to come and live with you. Frankly, mummy cant cope with the stress of knowing anymore and as much a I would love to house him at one of my apartments I think it would be much better suited if he was to live with you and you were to look after him"

  
John was surprised. He hadn't expected the arrangement to go so fast but after the two times he had met Sherlock all he wanted to do was mold him into a proper human. A proper sub. He wanted to make Sherlock happy and for Sherlock to do the same for him.

  
"Uhh.. I would be happy too" The Doctor answered after a few seconds of deliberation.

  
"Thank you, John" Mycroft said with a sincere smile. The first that John thought he had seen the some-what sociapathic man make.

  
With that, the ambulance and two cars sped off quickly leaving a similar black car waiting to take him home.

 

My home John thought. Soon to be our home.

***********************************************

  
Sherlock woke up a week later. He was told he had been found by none other than Dr. Watson, and that he had been bleeding. The source of the injury was unknown but he had been high on a cocktail of drugs. Well... so his talk screen said, anyway.

  
He was then told he had been put into an induced coma while his body repaired itself. Sherlock talked to the doctor about therapy options, and rehabilitation centers all of which he denied and insulted the medical man for even suggesting such an idea.

  
"Dont be obtuse" Sherlock had said many times "I dont need that, i'm not an idiot. Unlike your niece anyway. Whats she on? Cocaine?"

  
Needless to say, the staff had stopped visiting Sherlocks room. So it was only on the one time he was visited by his brother that he was told about the arrangement that had been made for him.

  
"It really wont be that bad Sherlock-"

  
"You made a decision for me, Mycroft. It was not my decision".

 

"Sherlock, it will be good for yo-"

  
"HOW ON EARTH do you know whats good for me. You cant even stick to your own diet"

  
"Its happening, you childish boy. You will be in the care of Dr. Watson as soon as you step out these hospital doors. Also, as mother gave me power of attorney I have had him signed as your official, permanent dominant. Shall you run away, you will be returned to him. This is for your own good".

  
Sherlock hated his brother. He hated being submissive, but right now he was really loving the idea of having a dom. Especially Dr.Watson. 

He wouldn't give in easily, though. He was, after all, Sherlock Holmes.


	4. Johns House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock moves in with John, but how long can he last without using?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. So im sorry this chapters 3 days late but I have all my exams at the minute and im so busy revising. Just give me a message her or on my tumblr (complexfx) if you think I've missed a sunday.

Sherlock was in in the hospital for four days.

  
In that time, he managed for try and recall everything that had happened in the last... How long had it been, again?

  
The sub could now admit to himself, after lying bloodied and hurt on the ground and ending up in hospital under the carful eye of his brother -only to be told that when he gets out hes going to somewhere that might as well be a prison- that he may have a small bad habit.

  
_Only small, though_ Sherlock tried to convince himself. _Only small._

After piecing together the events of a few days ago (Went out to buy drugs, got ripped off, hit over the head, needle in my arm so if I went to the police they wouldn't believe me if, in the unlikely event I told them what happened) Sherlock fell asleep again.

  
He was sleeping a lot at the moment. Mycroft had noticed, and was admittedly worried about his younger sibling.

  
Not too worry though. As soon as Sherlocks results came back and said he was all in the clear they could lave this place, and Sherlock could go and live with John. With any luck that would be this afternoon. Mycroft had to try and trust the doctor, who he had only known for a short time. If not, he wouldn't have the heart to send his brother away.   
He just wanted to help Sherlock.

  
On that thought, a doctor with a scruffy white beard walked toward Mycroft, who -strangely- smiled warmly at the familiar man.

 

  
"Ted" Mycroft welcomed, warmly shaking the mans hand "How is everything?"

  
"Oh, good Myc, good. The wife is okay. Billy's 17 now"

  
"You must be joking" Mycroft replied, feigning surprise.

  
"No, no..." Their was an awkward tension surrounding the two men for a few seconds before Mycroft prompted

 

"Results, then?"

  
"Oh of course, of course" Ted blurted out, rushing towards Sherlocks room. Mycrofts face returned to that of an emotionless mask as soon as the chirpy doctors back was turned.

  
"Sherlock" the friendly doctor greeted, patting the boy lightly on the back.

  
"Hello, Ted" Sherlock replied in a bored, groggy tone.

  
"Well lets have a looksie, shall we" Ted asked, opening the folder in his hands and reading through the chart.

  
"Everything looks okay. When you first came in, your talk screen showed copious amounts of opiates in your system. Presumably heroin, if I know you Sherlock. Obviously, the drugs have had a negative health effect on your body but if you stay clean the long term problems associated with drug use wont be as severe" Ted looked up to find the two brothers staring at each other.

  
After knowing the two, almost since they were born he knew the best thing to do was distract them, or they would either try to kill themselves or each other depending on which brother had started the seemingly telepathic argument.

  
"So.. my advice is too stay clean, eat well and take the meds we give you for the withdrawal" Ted carried on, using a dominant tone that finally took Sherlocks attention away from his calm brother.

  
"Okay, thank you Ted" Sherlock replied. Everyone in the room, including the submissive himself was surprised to hear the gratitude.

  
"Uhm... it- Its okay" the doctor said uneasily. "You can leave after the nurse comes to remove your IV"

  
The doctor left the room quickly with a quick pat on the back for Mycroft and a friendly "See you later" and the brothers were left alone in complete silence until the nurse came to remove his IV.

  
Everything happened rather quickly for the youngest Holmes brother after that. He found himself checked out of the hospital and in one of Mycrofts sleek black cars driving to an unknown location.

  
Probably Johns house. Maybe rehab. Maybe Mycroft had taken pity on him and was driving him home. Sherlock probably would have realized their location if he hadn't been on the meds that apparently helped him fight off withdrawal, but more made him groggy and compliant. 

Luckily for the young sub, and for everyone around him Sherlock had been on Methadrone for the last 5 days ensuring withdrawal didn't hit him too hard due to being on such a high dose.

  
However, being out of the hospital meant a lower dose because of the health risks a high dose caused and in about 3 hours Sherlock was going to go into serious junkie withdrawal and do anything to get a fix.

  
Hopefully whoever was looking after him had been warned.

  
As it turned out, it was as Sherlock thought. John opened the door with a wide smile and a gesture that told the sub to get out the car. He followed that order, hoping it would be the only one for a while.

  
"Hello Sherlock" John welcomed, smiling but not making a move to touch the sub. "How are you feeling?"

  
"Tired" was all Sherlock replied with, not making eye contact.

  
They made their way inside, Mycroft in pursuit along with two men carrying all of Sherlocks belongings.

  
They placed them at the bottom of the stairs and turned to leave.

  
"Well, I supposed thats all you need me for, then" Mycroft spoke, mostly to Sherlock.

 

"I don't _need_ you for anything Mycroft. Feel free to leave"

  
With a swift nod, Mycroft left Johns small flat on St Barts road.

  
"Please, Sherlock. Take a seat" John said with a motion of his arm. Sherlock did so, but after being left for around 3 minutes found himself chewing at his lip and scratching his arm.

  
He could feel it already. Since he had started using, he had only been through withdrawal once and it was only after a week or so. Once the sub had realized how awful it was he decided to carry on until he was either stopped, or dead. Sherlock still preferred the latter.

  
The sub stood, running to the door and trying the handle. Locked, obviously. Not that he had seen anybody do it but Sherlock seemed to be missing a lot recently.   
He frantically checked all the windows, muttering to himself about how far away the nearest fix was likely to be, how long it would take him to get there and where he could get a needle.

  
He didn't notice John standing in the doorway holding two cups of tea watching the submissive pace pack and forth in front of the door.

  
"Sherlock" John said, but the teenager couldnt hear him. "Sherlock" John said, a bit louder. It snapped the sub out of his trance. "I hate to interrupt but i'm worried you might smash a window and make a break for it. I really cant afford to fix it, and my insurance premiums will go up. Plus, we have tea here"

  
"I'm going to need a better offer than that. How about smack? Doubt you can offer me anything better" Sherlock spat, wanting to hurt his captor".

  
"No, but I can offer you 3 courses of methadone a day" at that, Sherlocks head lifted up, and he listened intently. "Its in a locked cabinet. I decide when you get it, and at what time. Don't worry, it will be the same every day... You break my trust and your gone. We need to go over some rules, sit down"

  
Sherlock stayed standing. "I would rather stay here" the sub replied.

 

"Here" John said simply, putting emphasis on the word but not enough to scare the natural submissive in Sherlock.

  
Instead of biting back, Sherlock did as he was told if only for the promise of a steady flow of legal opiate and a place to sleep without the fear of being busted.

  
"Right... rules" John continued "First, your eating habits are going to be heavily regulated. You are bone thin, Sherlock and ridiculously underweight. You will eat a minimum of three meals a day. Thats an intake of around 2000 calories every day with the high fat died you will be on. Second, you will hold my trust. If I tell you to do something you will do it. If I tell you not to do something you will not do it. I'm not going to ask you something that is beyond your capabilities or something you have previously told me you are not comfortable with. We'll get onto that in a minute. Third, you will be sleeping in a locked room, but not in my bed unless you wish otherwise. This will change after your dose of methadone diminishes. You will obey me and in turn I will look after you..." John continued with his heavily rehearsed speech. He really didn't want to scare Sherlock but the sub had to know where he stood, and that John wasn't going to let him get away with anything. "You will not use under my roof, or under my care and lastly.. If you break any of these rules you will be punished. Questions?"

  
"Umm... what punishments?" was all Sherlock could think of in his groggy mind after having so much explained to him so quickly.

  
"That will be decided at the time. To fit the crime, per say"

  
Sherlock thought about this last condition for a long while before replying with a simple "I'm tired"

  
John directed him to his bedroom and helped the boy carry his things upstairs. "Ill come upstairs to check on you when I go to bed. Ill lock the door, then. Just so you don't hurt yourself while I sleep... I'm sorry it has to be like this" John was just trying to be sincere... and with that the door was closed.

  
Sherlock went into the bathroom, removed the tiny bag of white powder from the small incision he made in his bag and snorted it from the small mirror his brother had allowed him to take.

  
He didn't want to go into width-drawl.

  
He didn't want John to see him like that.   
Without a second thought, Sherlock left the mirror in the bathroom and took the baggie with him hiding it in his pillow sleeve before collapsing onto his bed and sleeping soundly. 

 

 

He was awoken, 4 hours later by a stern voice calling his name.

"You haven't been here a day. You haven't given it a chance and already your using. In my house. What even is this, Sherlock?"

Sherlock was suddenly very awake and very sorry he had been caught red handed without even having spent a day getting to know all the escape routes.

  
"I want you downstairs, sat on the sofa in 10 minutes. Shower first, hurry up" John somehow yelled in a monotone voice.

  
The dom left the room, leaving Sherlock scurrying for the shower as quickly as he could trying to scrub away the reminiscence of his high. 


	5. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will, at some point, get round to correcting everything I promise.  
> This chapter is (hopefully) all spell checked and corrected. I proof read it and everything. Enjoy ^.^

Sitting on the shower floor, arm in hand. Johns words running through his curly head, Sherlock scratches lines across his veins and leaves red welts. For the first time in a long time, Sherlock Holmes was crying. As much as he hated the idea of being weak, of being less than an unemotional genius, of being at a dominants command he couldn't help himself.

When he was a child, Sherlock had always told himself he would never have a dominant. He grew out of listening to his father and brother years ago, and his mother had never been the one to discipline him as she was a submissive herself. From an early age, Sherlock had come to the conclusion that because of their similar brains he and his mother where biologically programmed to get on well. It wasn't so. His mother grew jealous of the attention Sherlock got from her husband due to his bad behavior. She wanted him to herself. She wanted the love, and the attention and even the punishments so Sherlock never did really get on with anybody in his household. He was kept out of school because of his behavior. His father didn't want the embarrassment of not being about to control even the youngest of subs. Sherlock was kept inside, lonely and bored until he learned the outside world had so much more to offer. He was 13 the first time he smoked a joint.

He had gone out without permission, again. Last time his father had caught him and given him 20 stokes with his meanest belt. Sherlock hadn't cried, but remained stoically silent to make a point. This, of course made his father angrier and the small boy was left bruised and bloodied. This hadn't deterred him though. He was at it again as soon as his wounds healed, and he wanted to do everything in his power to upset his fathers rules.

And so, he found himself at a park, swinging slowly and eating some chocolate he had stolen from the shop across the road from his house. Thats when he had been approached by children a lot older than him. A boy with the same curly hair as him introduced himself as Sam.

Sam asked Sherlock how old he was and seemed happy when the boy replied with 13. Sherlock spent the rest of the day with Sam and his friends, smoking cigarettes and stealing from shops. Eventually, when they found themselves in a dingy council flat Sam had offered Sherlock some weed which he took happily, not wanting to upset his new found friends.

Four years later Sam was dead, overdosed on heroin. Sherlock found himself waking up next to Sams corpse. His lips where blue, vomit down his chin. The teenager closed the boys eyes slowly and cried to himself.

If Sherlock had only one regret, it was leaving Sam in the abandoned house he had gotten high with him in just a few hours before. Two children found his body.

Breaking away from his thoughts, Sherlock looked through the now completely steamed up glass to see a figure in the doorway. He scrambled to his feet and covered his intimate areas with a towel John was passing him. He looked sad, thoughtful. No longer angry but disappointed and Sherlock didn't know which was worse.

"I will see you downstairs in five minutes, okay?" The doctor asked, concerned. Sherlock nodded, avoiding eye contact.

****************************************

"Crying.... yes, I know.... I don't know, he was sat down in the shower.... Yes, he used again.... No, I haven't punished him yet, i'm making that call now.... Right... Okay, goodbye"

Sherlock walked around the corner dressed in his pajamas after hearing the end of the conversation. He had cleaned of his face which had regained its uncaring nonchalance that seemed so natural after years of practice.

He went to sit down, to be stopped by an arch in Johns eyebrow. The doctor pointed to the floor, which Sherlock regarded with careful curiosity. Eventually, the teenager relented and knelt down keeping his embarrassed eyes on the ground.

John lent forward a little, and took Sherlocks arm in his hands. He ran his fingers down the now bleeding forearm.

"You made yourself bleed"

"I didn't mean too" came the quick response.

"One second" John stood up, retrieving his first aid box from the kitchen cupboard and returning to his seat. He carefully bandaged up Sherlocks arm, avoiding too much pressure and occasionally making eye contact with the depressive teenager. "You know what I told you, Sherlock"

No reply.

"I told you that if you used again, in my house especially you would be punished and within the hour you did it anyway. Without any consideration for the consequences. You know what has to be done" John waited for a reply which wouldnt come. "Answer me, Sherlock"

"Yes, I know" John let Sherlocks arm drop to his lap and stood up. Sherlock wanted to be dominated, he could tell. He just didn't want to give in. That would come with time.

"Straighten yourself up, right now. Hands behind your back, and keep your eyes on mine" Sherlock did as he was told. "Good. Now, Sherlock I'm going to flog you" John said bluntly. At this, Sherlocks eyes widened and he started to move around on his knees. "No, no... Sherlock, I need you too know that I will never harm you. Ever. I may hurt you, but its too teach you a lesson so that you can be happy. Sherlock, I will never harm you. You have my word".

Sherlock calmed down enough for John to nod, and go over to a cupboard in the corner of the room. He retrieved a purple flogger and brought it back to sit on the coffee table in direct line of Sherlocks vision. The teenager didnt take his eyes off of it. 

"Is there anything you would like to talk about before we begin?" 

"No" 

"No what?"

"No Sir" Sherlock replied through gritted teeth. 

"Good boy. You dont have a safe word, do you? I think we should make one together, Sherlock. What do you think?"

"Lazarus, sir" 

"Good boy, take off your shirt." 

Sherlock slowly removed his shirt and threw it into the corner. John gave him a disapproving look which the teenager dutifully ignored. 

"Are you ready?" John asked, having picked up the flogger. 

"Yes sir"

With that, John brought the harsh leather down to form red stripes across Sherlocks sensitive skin. Angry flames danced across both the teenagers skin and his mind as he willed himself to stay in position. Surely he was bleeding by now, it had been at least 20 minutes... 

John counted the fifth minute in his head and stopped on the 29th blow. 

"What have you learnt Sherlock?" 

"Im not allowed to use.. ever again... and not here... uh" Sherlock rattled off guesses that he hoped where true. If he was going to stay here he had to find a way to conceal his drug use from the doctor which would obviously be difficult if he had realized this early in the game. He wasn't going to submit to some random stranger. Sherlocks anger flared up a lot like his red skin but he bit his lip. 

"Good boy". John moved down to cup Sherlocks chin in his hand and tilted his head up so the teenagers eyes met his. "What do you need Sherlock?" 

"I want to go to bed" 

"Okay, that's normal. Would you like me to come, or would you like to be alone right now?" 

"I want to be alone". Sherlocks emotionless features gave nothing away and all the doctor could do was nod as his new found friend walked slowly up the stairs and disappeared into the darkness. 

John hoped he had made an impact. He really didn't want to have to do that again. In all honestly, John hated punishing subs he really did but it was just a necessity. They craved it as much as he did. 

Upstairs, Sherlock prepared himself for bed, but not before dipping his wet finger into the baggy and rubbing it around his gums. 

He carefully hid the packet. John wouldn't find out again. It would only be a matter of time before he could leave this place, anyway. 


End file.
